


Become Spectacular

by perspi



Series: Five-O Customs [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-09
Updated: 2012-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-30 20:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perspi/pseuds/perspi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They finally finish restoring the Marquis, and Steve's determined to break it in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Become Spectacular

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the _Five-O Customs_ 'verse, where Steve is a half-retired SEAL and Chin is a mechanic.

  


"So where's the barge?" Danny shouts from the kitchen, just as Steve was starting to wonder if he'd been kept late at work.

"Hm?" Steve responds just enough that Danny knows where to find him. He doesn't look up from the bodyboard balanced on his knees, although he's got the doorway to his right so he can hear Danny shuffling onto the lanai.

"The barge, you know, the beast, the cruiser, the gas-guzzling relic you had parked in the garage, where is it?"

"'S at Chin's," Steve mutters before looking up in time to see Danny unwrapping a Peppermint Patty. He apparently intends to eat it immediately after whatever he's currently chewing, which Steve would bet is also of the peppermint-and-frozen variety. "What did I tell you about that?"

"What." Danny pops the second candy in his mouth with an entirely too-innocent look.

"That!" Steve points at Danny, and the fact that his frown of disapproval doesn't seem to have any effect just serves to irritate him more. "I have one thing, Danno, _one_ indulgence --"

"That explains a lot, actually," Danny mutters, but Steve refuses to yield the floor.

"-- and do you know what it does to a guy to discover that thing he was looking forward to isn't actually in his freezer anymore, because his neighbor _ate them all_?"

By this time Danny's very close to outright laughing, but Steve isn't kidding, it's his goddamn candy. Danny's obviously fighting to keep his innocent look when he asks, "Not pretty?"

"You're gonna find out how not pretty, asshole," Steve growls, but Danny dismisses him with a wave. 

"Relax, Rambo, I brought you another bag," he says and plops down on the chair across from Steve before toeing off his shoes and loosening his tie. "What's the car doing at Chin's? I thought you got it running."

"Yeah, we got it running." Steve curls his fingers against the board and gives Danny a rueful smile. "But Chin caught me trying to fix a dent and declared I was no longer allowed to work on it, took it back to his shop."

Danny snorts and points back the way he'd come, in the direction of the garage. "Don't tell me you were using the --"

"It should have worked, it was only a little dent," Steve protests, but he knows he's failed to convince Danny by the way he starts laughing.

  


* * *

  


Chin won't let Steve see the progress on the Marquis -- every time Steve drops by the shop, Max or Chin pointedly steer Steve away from wherever it is. When he tries to ask, Jenna just sort of looks blankly at him and even Kamekona just shakes his head. 

"Let the boss man do what he do," Kamekona tells him, for once utterly and completely immune to bribery of any kind, leaving Steve standing with a double mango-chili-raspberry-li hing shave ice in his hand.

So Steve eats it himself. By the time he's finished, he even likes it a little.

  


* * *

  


It takes another two weeks, and Steve's wound up tight with curiosity -- no one will _tell_ him anything, but they've all been dropping hints about it every time he shows up at 5-O Customs. Finally Steve gets a text from Chin, on a Thursday morning while he's in the middle of trainee evaluations: **Marquis is finished @ the shop.**

Steve texts back **See you tonight?** He's headed out for salvage training at the big pool when he gets Chin's response and has to work to smother his reaction when he imagines what Chin sounds like saying it. 

**Come and get it, sailor.**

  


* * *

  


When Steve pulls up, the Marquis is parked like the trophy it now is out in front of the shop. The paint is fresh and polished to a high shine: it's still mostly black, the bottom half and fender skirts over the back wheels now a deep burgundy that emphasizes the long lines of the car.

Steve walks around the car a couple times, almost-not-quite believing it's the same car. He can see the interior looks completely different: the dash is smooth and minimalist, with round dials for the gauges and no obvious stereo equipment, and the upholstery is cream leather with burgundy accents to match the outside. 

He's pretty sure it's not quite what his father had envisioned, when he'd thought about the restoration -- for one thing, he'd put money on Jack arguing for navy blue, if Steve had dared suggest a second color. But it's not really Jack's car any more; like the house, Steve claimed it, made it his, but Chin's fingerprints are all over it now and Steve can't imagine it any other way.

Steve can't wait to make it _theirs_.

"You'll need these," Chin calls from the shop doorway, and Steve unbends from looking in the car window to see him dangling a set of keys.

"Chin Ho Kelly, what did you _do_?" Steve yells back, and Chin saunters over with a hell of a swagger, his black-and-white aloha shirt stretched tight over his shoulders, his jeans riding low on his hips. Steve wants to peel him naked.

"Me, I just did the paint job, brah," Chin says, his grin wide and satisfied. "Kamekona did the wiring, Jenna did the bodywork. I've been working out a deal with a new business partner, she did the upholstery on this as a trial run."

"Yeah?" Steve gets a flash of an idea that jolts down his spine; he rubs at his jaw to cover for it.

Chin nods. "I cut her a deal on the lease of the space, she gives our jobs priority. Her name's Lori, does a great job." He holds out the keys, but Steve doesn't take them.

"You don't want to see inside, take her for a spin?" Chin asks and jingles the keys.

Steve shakes his head and shuffles in close, half-turned together, their backs to the shop. "I think you should drive," he says, just loud enough for Chin to hear. "I want to get a good look at the inside of the car, okay --" and Steve catches Chin's gaze, watches his eyes go dark with intent, "-- but when I'm done I'm going down on you. I'm gonna lie down on that big bench seat and swallow your dick until you come down my throat, and I don't much care where we are when that happens, so if you're okay with us doing that here, you know --"

The car's door locks _thunk_ open -- something else Chin must have upgraded -- and Chin's fingers clench tight around Steve's wrist as he hisses, "Jesus Christ, _Steve_ , get in the fucking car."

They both take a steadying breath once they're settled and before Chin starts the car. "No uniform?" Chin asks, his voice close to nonchalant but Steve can hear the tremor underneath.

Steve looks down at his cargoes-clad legs and knows his own shrug isn't quite casual, either. "Had a situation in the pool, this is what I had to change into."

"Mmmm," Chin answers, giving Steve a long once-over and a smile before starting the engine and pulling away from the garage. 

"So," Steve sighs loudly and turns his attention to the dash in front of him. It's cream-and-burgundy with hints of chrome, long horizontal bands of color ridging the dash and echoing the lines of the car's exterior. There's no obvious glove box or anything; it's a long slope of leather and plastic. 

"Stereo and climate control are here," Chin says and reaches over to gently push at a spot on the dash. It sinks in a fraction of an inch and then the panel folds smoothly open and out to sink down underneath, bringing a modern control panel into view.

"Cool," Steve murmurs, and he pokes around the dash until he finds the glove compartment, which opens the same way. "I like the white," he says and catches a glance from Chin when he waves at the seats. "Won't get so hot when it's out in the sun."

Chin snorts. "That's exactly why Max argued for it, even though Kamekona was pretty adamant we stick with the classic black." He looks fantastic in the driver's seat, like he belongs there, his thighs spread wide, shirtsleeve stretched tight over his shoulder as he reaches to the wheel.

Steve glances around the interior one more time, taking in the medallion worked in burgundy thread across the back seat, the matching one in the middle of the front bench, the scrollwork in the ceiling felt (which he'll admit is pretty cool, _later_ ), the way his knees aren't bumping against the dash. "This is amazing, Chin, thank you."

"You don't know how much it cost, yet," Chin points out, his focus on the road but his eyes crinkling in a smile.

"I don't care," Steve says and turns his attention where he really wants it. "It's worth it."

That earns him a glance from Chin that's full of warmth, giving an added kick to the heat pooling in Steve's belly. Chin starts, "And you want to --"

"It's practically a new car," Steve answers and reaches out to run one hand up the length of Chin's thigh. "Gotta christen it." He follows the denim up until he can spread his palm over Chin's cock, feel where the heat of him is hidden away.

"I take it you're done with the car?" Chin asks, his voice as tight as his grip on the steering wheel and his focus resolutely in front of them.

Steve shifts in his seat, tilting his hips and adjusting himself and spreading his knees. "Yeah," he breathes, "I got better things to do." He can feel how Chin's cock is filling, and he stretches his fingers so they brush under Chin's balls.

Chin pushes his hips up into Steve's hand, just the tiniest bit. Steve leans his head back against the headrest, watches the play of muscle along Chin's arms as he turns a corner, can feel the way Chin's body shifts with the turn through his hand in Chin's lap.

"You ever get road head?" Steve asks quietly and flexes his fingers, gratified when Chin sucks in a breath.

"No." Chin's voice is a half-growl deep in his chest. "Helped clean up the aftermath once at the Nuʻuanu Pali tunnels, though, so it's a good thing we're here." Steve blinks and looks out the window to see they've pulled into Chin's driveway; Chin fishes a door opener out of his shirt pocket.

By the time they're in the cool dark of the garage, Steve's got both their seatbelts unbuckled. As soon as Chin shifts the car into _park_ Steve's half-twisted on the seat, stretched out so he can get both hands up under Chin's shirt. The engine cuts off just as the rumble of the closing garage door stops, and Chin grabs hold of Steve's head with both hands, bringing him in for a wild kiss.

Steve kisses back, his fingers sliding across Chin's belly as he turns the rest of himself around, getting one knee down into the footwell and the other jammed up against the seatback and the passenger door. It's kind of amazing: Steve's never been so comfortably stretched out while fucking in a car before.

Chin pulls back just enough to get a look at how Steve's straddling the edge of the seat. "Goddamn, you almost fit," he says, his voice hushed and breathless.

"That's what they all say." Steve gives him a dirty grin and shimmies back just a little, enough to plant one elbow between Chin's knees and use his free hand to get Chin's jeans open. There's not really enough room, but after some shifting and grunting Chin's jeans and boxers are far enough down his hips that his cock is free, half-hidden under shirttails.

Steve presses a close-mouthed kiss to the base of Chin's cock, right where it's not covered by the shirt, and takes his time undoing the buttons from the bottom up, like he's unwrapping a gift.

Chin exhales on a long sigh, and Steve looks up to see Chin watching him, his eyes focused intently on Steve's fingers as they get closer to his collarbone. One of Chin's hands is spread hot over Steve's chest, and every so often Chin's fingertips flex against his ribs. When the shirt is finally undone, once he's got Chin bare all the way down, Steve groans appreciatively.

Chin is beautiful, all planes and angles and dark, dark eyes. His cock matches the rest of him: gorgeous; thick and two shades darker than the skin on his belly, curving a little to the left and not quite fully hard yet, the head still mostly hidden by foreskin.

Steve is endlessly fascinated with Chin's foreskin, and he loves this part: loves wrapping his lips gently around the end of Chin's cock, feeling the foreskin slip between his lips and the head until Chin's completely erect. He leans his head against Chin's torso, gets himself comfortable so he can take his time and enjoy this: sliding his tongue around the ridge of the foreskin, gently scraping the underside with his teeth, going down as far as he can so he can breathe deep and smell only _Chin_.

Steve's bad ear is pressed to Chin's belly, and he can feel more than hear the rumble of Chin's groans and growled curses. Chin rests one hand alongside Steve's face, half-cupping the back of Steve's head as he moves, and his other hand strokes along Steve's spine, rucking up his shirt to let the air cool the sweat from the small of his back. 

Steve has one hand tucked down between Chin's legs; he can't do much with it beyond feel the heat and heaviness of Chin's balls. He's half holding himself up with the other elbow near Chin's hip, his hand slid under Chin's ass. So he's losing all finesse, without a hand to help hold Chin's dick -- as he slides up and down he's sucking and slurping and it's utterly obscene, sounding loud and slick in the small space.

Combined with the noises coming from Chin, the low _fuck_ s falling from his mouth like rain, the way Chin's hips shift under him and Chin's dick slides against his tongue, against the roof of his mouth, and Steve's on _fire_. He can't help pushing his hips, working himself against the edge of the seat in time with his movement over Chin's cock.

Chin sucks in a loud breath and tightens his fingers in Steve's hair; Steve can feel the way Chin's balls go tight before he tenses, pushing his hips up and coming down Steve's throat.

Steve swallows as best he can, knows he's not getting it all but doesn't really care. As Chin relaxes under him, Steve tries to gentle his lips, to keep hold of Chin in his mouth while he grinds into the seat.

Chin strokes one hand down Steve's back, his fingers raking fire across the skin, and he murmurs, "Yeah, Steve, come on, come on." Chin flexes once, sliding his half-hard dick against Steve's tongue, and that's it, that's enough to tip Steve over, his orgasm rolling him under like the best kind of wave and leaving him sprawled across Chin's lap in a boneless heap.

They both take a long moment to breathe, Chin's touch along Steve's shoulders gone steady and comforting. Steve presses his lips to Chin's bare hip; Chin skritches at Steve's scalp.

"Huh," Chin says finally, and all Steve can muster in response is, "Hmm?"

"We fogged up the windows," Chin observes, his voice only half-understandable since Steve's lying on his one good ear. 

Steve snorts. "We are a mess," he tells Chin's belly before trying to pull himself back to the passenger side of the car. "Fuuuuck," he groans as everything creaks and squishes in uncomfortable places on the way to getting him back toward vertical.

Chin laughs, easy and smooth and looking completely fucked-out, and Steve has to laugh with him, has to lean back in and kiss him, has to love him, just like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many thanks to my cheering squad of First Readers, most especially **iam_space** and **kristen999** for the crit.
> 
> Comments and concrit always welcome.


End file.
